


Sometimes There's Pouting...

by herinfiniteeyes



Series: Birthday Boy 'Verse [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herinfiniteeyes/pseuds/herinfiniteeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small follow-up to Birthday Boy. Eames is packing for a business trip. Arthur is upset. Mention of past underage stuff, mentions of barebacking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes There's Pouting...

**Author's Note:**

> So...I set out to write some porn, and ended up with this. So much for the porn. *Sigh* However, there's already another bit in the mix, so it's gonna end up a series.

_Sometimes there's pouting..._

“You're pouting.”

“Am not,” Arthur grumbled.

Eames grinned fondly and reached out to stroke over Arthur's bottom lip. “If this isn't a pout, then I've never seen a pout in my life,” Eames said.

Arthur grumbled and jerked away from Eames' hands. He was seated at the end of the bed, currently scowling down at the half-packed suitcase next to him. Eames stepped forward until he was between Arthur's legs. “Tell me what's wrong, love.”

Sometimes Arthur took a lot of patience, but then that had to be expected when one was dating an eighteen-year-old boy, no matter how mature he was. Luckily, Eames utterly loved the little bastard, so he gladly put up with these rare moods of his.

Finally, Arthur let out a frustrated sigh. Eames waited. He knew Arthur would talk about it eventually. “It's just...”

“Just what?” Eames encouraged.

Arthur looked around the room as if trying to escape, but visibly steeled himself for what came next: “What do you see in me?” he mumbled awkwardly without meeting Eames' eyes.

Eames paused, surprised at this question. After the past month he'd spent with Arthur, lavishing him with attention (and lots and lots of sex, he must say), he was entirely taken aback by this sudden insecurity showing on Arthur's face.

Off the top of his head, he could think of several ways to answer Arthur's question. Arthur was brilliant, could go to any school he wanted to if he was willing to leave Eames. Instead, he was going to the local community college. Eames knew it wasn't entirely fair, but since he was somewhat selfish where Arthur was concerned (not to mention that promise he'd made not to assume he knew what was better for Arthur than he did), he was content for now.

Arthur was a lot of things... gorgeous, thoughtful, a lovely conversationalist. Despite being much younger than Eames, he often tried to take care of Eames on the sly. He apparently thought Eames wouldn't notice the way he kept the house spotless, or all the attempts he'd made at cooking.

He could recall the exact moment he stopped questioning what right he had to date Arthur. He'd come home from a long day of frustrating meetings to find Arthur standing nervously in front of the door, dressed impeccably. The lights were off throughout the entire house, save for the soft candlelight peeking through the door to the dining room.

When he looked at Arthur questioningly, Arthur said, “I...I made Mal's chicken marsala. She said it was your favorite...”

Eames remembered how it didn't taste like chicken marsala at all, and how Arthur mumbled embarrassed apologies because he wasn't old enough to actually buy the right wine so he'd had to use a bottle of whatever Eames had in the cupboard. Arthur had looked defeated, but his dark eyes still held a little bit of hope that Eames would like it.

He ate every last bite.

 

Back in the present, he smiled at Arthur and leaned down to brush a gentle kiss across his (yes, pouting) lips. “I see a lot of things in you, Arthur. I see a boy with a lot of potential to be become whatever he wants to be...but I also see a man who knows what he wants, and goes after it with confidence. When you make a decision, you always follow through. You're loyal, and you never let anyone down,” Eames answered honestly.

Arthur still frowned. “But what about sexy things?”

Eames was confused. “'Sexy things?'”

Arthur flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Eames could think of a number of sexy things he could be doing right now if only he didn't have to pack.

“Yeah. Like, when you're on this business trip forever and you get horny, so you go pick up some guy...” he trailed off, looking miserable.

Sometimes Eames could be a little slow in understanding where Arthur was coming from. Fortunately, this instance was all too clear. “Let me get this straight...you think I'm going to pick up some random fuck while I'm gone, is that right?”

Arthur was red in the face now. He didn't say anything in response.

Eames was maybe just a little bit offended and angry now. He lifted Arthur's chin until he could look him straight in the eye. “Do you think so little of me? That I'm the kind of bloke who cheats?”

Arthur swallowed hard. His eyes were trying to dart away, but Eames wouldn't let him look anywhere else. “Arthur. I resisted your considerable charms for a gruelingly long time until you turned eighteen. I risked the closest friendship I have to be with you. I took your virginity, for – no, you know what? I don't wear condoms with you. Do you honestly think I'd be unfaithful to you?”

Arthur's eyes began to water, so Eames released his chin and Arthur bowed his head. “I guess not,” he mumbled contritely.

Eames let loose a long-suffering sigh and pushed against Arthur's shoulders until he dropped back on the bed. He looked at Eames warily as he climbed up along Arthur's body until he straddled his lap. “I think what you need is a reminder of just how sexy I think you are,” he said with a smirk.

Arthur relaxed back against the bed and grinned up at him. “Well, if you insist...”


End file.
